The Road Trip
by Summersfan
Summary: Xander’s roadtrip. No extradimensional adventures or new powers--just a quick story about the Zeppo on a roadtrip.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: How many times do I have to tell you I own nothing?

Summary: Xander's roadtrip. No extra-dimensional adventures or new powers-- just the Zeppo on a roadtrip.

1.

Xander sat behind the wheel of the car, staring at the descending sun, a far-off red disc.  
_  
Road trip._

What an innocuous two words. Depending, of course, on what innocuous meant. He thought it meant something like innocent, and that's what it was. It seemed innocent. But it wasn't. It really, really wasn't.

Because then you ended up with the engine dropped out of your car sitting a million miles from your friends staring at the setting sun and waiting for night when the monsters came out to play.

Xander kind of wished he'd stayed home.

Well, no, he didn't. He kind of wished he could have stayed at Willow's home, actually, as he usually did for most of the summer.

But he couldn't. He'd screwed up his friendship with Willow, like everything else he'd ever had. And managed to alienate his girlfriend at the same time, in one stroke. Now he couldn't stay with her, and had to find somewhere to spend his summer. Hopefully somewhere other than home.

And here he was, in the middle of nowhere, in uncle Rory's car.

Uncle Rory's bum, useless, stupid, unmoving car.

Stranded.

He let out a sigh, climbing out of the car. He retrieved his duffle bag out of the car and put on the necklace Willow had given him, the one with the cross hanging on the end.

Which was kind of a weird gift from a nice Jewish girl, but there it was.

Protection against some of the things that went bump in the night.

He put the keys in his pocket and locked the doors, even though there was no chance of anybody stealing a car that wouldn't start. Then he started walking, whistling a little bit.

It didn't help much.

He'd loved Cordelia with a passion. They had started as enemies, but had turned into a happy couple without ever once stopping to be friends. That had been the happiest time of his life.

And he'd blown it, of course. He'd known he would blow it.

He blew everything.

Well, except for saving the school that once. That had been pretty good.

But, still, genetics were an important part of life. With a family like his, how could he be anything else? And what if he had stayed with her? What if he had married her? Then he would have blown it then, and it would have been worse for her.

All things considered, he thought he'd done pretty well by her. Sure, her heart had been broken, and she'd been skewered by rebar. But she was still alive, and she seemed kind of happy, last time he'd seen her.

He could see a building up ahead, a truck stop from the looks of it. The neon light was out, and in the fading light he couldn't read it. He headed inside.

As he entered he realized instantly the place was closed for the evening. There was one woman there, and she was scrubbing a place on the floor that stained with something too gritty to be blood and not nasty enough to be vomit.

She looked up at him. "Not hiring." She said, rubbing a hand across her mouth. She was middle aged, and a little pudgy. He simply nodded, glancing around quickly.

"My car broke down back that way." He said apologetically, motioning with his thumb back the way he'd come. "Uh," and he stopped talking. He hadn't planned this far. Who was he going to call? He doubted he could repair it with the few hundred dollars in his pocket, and he didn't want to call his friends in Sunnydale.

Because then he'd be the friend who was so worthless he couldn't even get a hundred miles out of Sunnydale.

"Want a phone?" Asked the woman.

"I, uh, really didn't plan that far into the conversation." He said with a shrug. "I don't really have anybody to call. How far am I from town?"

"Well, if you'd made it over the hill you'd have been in Oxnard central." She said. "I'm Claire, by the by."

"Oh! Xander. Xander Harris." He said.

"And just why did you wander into the Ladies Night Club, Xander Harris?" Asked Claire, a smile starting on her mouth.

His mouth dropped, and then he carefully closed it. "Your sign was out." He said. "And, uh, it was the first place I saw."

"Right." She said, nodding. "Well, I have a phone. We can call Joe. He's got a shop where he can park your car."

**

An hour later Xander was sitting at one of the tables with Joe. "Seven hundred dollars?!" He squeaked.

Joe shrugged. "You can leave it parked at my garage till you got either the money or wanna sell it or whatever." He said.

Xander nodded. "Thanks, Joe." He said, doing his best to keep his misery out of his voice.

Claire stomped back, hands on her hips. "Either of you seen Eddie?"

"I don't know." Said Xander. "What's he look like?"

"Big fat fella." Said Claire.

"He left town yest'day." Said Joe.

Claire sighed. "You see him, 'remind' him that he owes me two hundred bucks still."

"Sure." Said Joe. He glanced at Xander. "I gotta get back to work. You can call me at 7342."

"Sure." Said Xander. Joe got up and left and Xander rubbed his eyes wearily.

Claire eyed him. "You wanna job?" She asked him, not a hint of her previous friendliness in her eyes.

"What's it pay?" Asked Xander dryly.

"Minimum wage." She said. "Maybe I can find you a place to stay with one of the boys."

"One of the boys?" Asked Xander.

"The strippers." Said Claire.

"They get minimum wage?" Asked Xander, confused.

She laughed. "No, they get twenty bucks and hour and all the tips they can make. Nah, dishwashers make minimum. I can't seem to keep anybody for dishwashing duty."

Xander shrugged. Why not? Looked like the Ladies Night Club was all the adventure he was going to get. "Sure, why not?" He said.

**

A/N: Mostly a bit of teaser before the main show. This is not the tacky, full-out XANDERHERO fic you might have expected. I don't write those. This, however, a short, thoughtful look at a summer Xander spent away from his friends. Away from those he thought he was a burden on, away from the leeching he was always doing. Away from the Zeppo status. Let's see where it goes, eh?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
Xander stared into the kitchen from Hell, and briefly wondered if perhaps Buffy had actually failed to keep the evil from escaping the Hellmouth, just once. Just a little. And then maybe it had come here.  
  
Because this was evil.  
  
"Aren't women supposed to be cleaner than guys?" He asked.  
  
Claire, who was sitting down wiping sweat off her forehead, shook her head. "It's a myth." She said.  
  
"Like the myth that girls at a strip-show are scary?"  
  
"No, that's true." Said Claire. She glared at him. "How'd you get this far behind on dishes?"  
  
"They just kept coming back. . .and I fought them as long as I could, till one of them rallied. The little one with the peas shaped like Lawrence of Arabia." He pointed it out on the mountain. "It led the others in a revolt. I was powerless."  
  
Claire chuckled. "Okay, you're forgiven, provided you stay late enough to clean all this up."  
  
Xander snuck a glance at the clock. "It's one in the morning now." He noted.  
  
"Not a night person?" She asked.  
  
He snorted. "Well, aside from the summer that I was out every night, patrolling, yeah, I pretty much like my sleep."  
  
"Patrolling?"  
  
"Er. . .it was a club." He said it with a straight face, but felt his eye twitch.  
  
She gave him an odd look. "Club, right. Are you seeing anyone, Xander?"  
  
He gave a little laugh. "Was. Past tense."  
  
"So this is your big coming of age adventure?" She asked.  
  
"It's my big get out of the house adventure." Corrected Xander. He picked up a filthy plate and stuck it under a faucet. "Now, about that place to stay. . ."  
  
"Ricky!" Yelled Claire, making Xander jump. He just managed to keep from fumbling the plate, keeping it one piece. He considered that a victory, in his current state of mind.  
  
Ricky wandered in, wearing only a thong. "Good crowd today." He said cheerfully, plucking a fifty out of his waistband. He was facing Claire, with his back to Xander, who briefly considered smashing the plate to get small glass shards large enough to scoop his eyes out.  
  
"Xander needs a place to stay." Said Claire.  
  
"Oh." Said Ricky, glancing at Xander. "Is he a dancer?"  
  
Xander shook his head, keeping his eyes on the buildup of food on the plates he was washing.  
  
Ricky turned to Claire. "Well, I could use the help on my rent money. But I don't want him bringing home any of his boyfriends, okay? My girl will have a hard enough time with this as it is."  
  
Xander started choking. Ricky slapped him on the back. "I'll go get changed. I'm parked out front, so you can meet me there." He said cheerfully.  
  
Xander glared at Claire. "What?" He said.  
  
"Well, you were staring at his butt." Said Claire. "Doing a very good job of covering. Too good. Besides, what kind of guy would come to work as a dishwasher at a strip club where guys wander around the kitchen in thongs?"  
  
Xander turned his glare to the dishes. "I better be getting a lot of money for this." He muttered.  
  
**  
  
Ricky opened the door, letting light flow in. The rising dust caught the light, creating a bright halo around the porch.  
  
"This is my place." Said the dancer cheerfully.  
  
Xander examined the blonde's apartment. "Uh, nice." He said.  
  
"It's the black hole of Calcutta." Said Ricky, stepping inside. Xander followed him, glaring at the ratty couch, the peeling walls, and the kitchen. Especially the kitchen.  
  
Well, at least there was no stack of dirty dishes. Just grime, grime, and more grime.  
  
"Now, I pay 250 a month for this place." Xander stared at Ricky, who shrugged. "It's a rattrap, and it's probably illegal. I know. I expect you to chip in at least two hundred a month."  
  
"That's most of your rent money!" Squealed Xander. Ricky nodded.  
  
"But I'll cover groceries!" He said cheerfully.  
  
Xander considered the odds that he actually would cover anything. He decided that bad as it was, it was probably cheaper than any other deal he could make. "Sure." He said with a sigh.  
  
Ricky bounced into the bedroom. "You can have the couch!" He yelled cheerfully.  
  
Xander stared at the grimy, greasy, filthy thing that Ricky had so casually blasphemed into a couch. "Gee, thanks." He muttered, dropping his bag on the floor. He heard a shower start up and sighed, sitting on the couch.  
  
Well, at least he was having an adventure.  
  
There was a knock at the door, and he went to get it. He opened it, revealing a redhead who was scowling. For a second the red hair caused a twinge in his stomach, but it was shorter than Willow's hair, and a little drabber. It was attached to a pale girl who was a lot skinnier than Willow, and who stared at him.  
  
"You're not Ricky." She said.  
  
Before he could reply that Ricky was in the shower, she whipped out a can of something and pointed it at his eyes. The mist that struck him square in the eyes felt a little like an acid bath, and the shriek of pain he let out was rivaled only by the shriek he let out when she kicked him firmly in the crotch.  
  
"You rat!" She screamed. "He wasn't that behind on the rent! You rat!"  
  
As he fell she began kicking at the softer areas of his body. He was now effectively blind and couldn't block, only cowering under the onslaught. The pain was, well, was like he was being attacked by a pack of vampires. A horde of demons. The hellmouth itself.  
  
It really hurt.  
  
"Hey, babe, he's okay." Said a voice from the door.  
  
"Ricky, baby!" The girlfriend walked over Xander, planting one last kick in his kidneys, walking by him to her boyfriend.  
  
Xander moaned, rubbing his eyes. They were on fire.  
  
"Shower's free." Said Ricky sympathetically.  
  
**  
  
Later, lying on the couch listening to the giggles and cooing noises coming from the bedroom, Xander realized that he was miserable. The realization, oddly, felt a little exhilarating.  
  
He could imagine the conversation now. "Hey, Cordy, I can get miserable without your help!" No, no, that was a bit much. "Hey, Cordy, you can't make me as miserable as I was on my roadtrip!" No, no, too much of a dare. Then she'd have to try.  
  
Still, it was hard to imagine sinking to a lower point than this.  
  
**  
  
A/N: Well, in the next chapter, Xander sinks to a lower point than this. And this is before he dances, right? Now, the next couple of chapters WILL have some all-but-AU speculation about what might have happened. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
  
Somewhere in his soul Xander knew that evil was not easy to pin down. That it was morally ambiguous. That real evil was not some laughing man in a cape with large fangs.  
  
Well, it was. But that was beside the point.  
  
Somehow someplace as evil as the kitchen in the Ladies Night Club should not have existed, he knew that. No place could be this purely evil without the Slayer's attention coming to it.  
  
He scrubbed the filth off the dishes and swore to himself silently that tomorrow he'd try to find another job.  
  
Ricky walked in, wearing nothing. "Have you seen my blue strappy outfit?" He asked.  
  
"Aaah!" Whined Xander, covering his eyes. "Ricky!"  
  
"Sorry, man." Said Ricky. "Have you?"  
  
"Kitchen! Food! No naked men!" Said Xander firmly.  
  
Ricky wandered off.  
  
Claire wandered into the kitchen. "More plates for you." She said. For somebody inflicting torture, she was a bit too cheerful for Xander's taste. "Also, some of the girls broke some glasses, so I'll need new ones out of the back."  
  
Xander nodded and moved to get the new glasses when Claire gave a small laugh. He glared at the old woman.  
  
"You know he just does it because you react every time, right?" She asked. "Stop shrieking and he'll stop streaking."  
  
"I know the theory." Said Xander. "It's just the actual not shrieking when a naked man walks in the kitchen that kind of makes me lose it."  
  
Claire nodded, waving her hands at him. "Cups!" She said.  
  
He set off for the glasses, hurrying.  
  
Okay, so maybe working here wasn't totally bad. Claire was fun to talk to, almost reminiscent of the banter he had with Buffy. Only without the constant threat of violence.  
  
At the same time she was a little bit intimidating. And not in a nice 'she can kick my butt' way, like Buffy. More in a 'she'd beat me to death in a heartbeat' intimidating. Even if she couldn't do it. She was tough.  
  
And he was Xander, lord of the putty.  
  
Actually, that sounded really dumb. He decided to never say it out loud.  
  
He returned to the kitchen, setting up the glasses where Claire could grab them when she came back. He glanced to the cook, a short Chinese guy who spoke about three words of American, slaving over a hot stove.  
  
He turned back to the piles of dishes that Claire had added to while he had been gone and set into them with a sigh.  
  
A girl opened the doors, walking in. "Hey, where's Eddie?"  
  
"Gone. Consider me your source for all things Eddie." Said Xander.  
  
"He owed me money." Pouted the girl.  
  
"Except money." Clarified Xander.  
  
She was holding a glass of some amber liquid in one hand. She flounced over, looking him up and down. "Hm. You're not one of Claire's dancers, are you?"  
  
"Er, no. Xander Harris. I'd shake your hand but I've been working and it's disgusting." Said Xander, smiling.  
  
"Jenny." He had a sudden flash of Jenny Calendar, dead, but suppressed it, trying to keep his smile alive. Painful associations with names was something he was already familiar with.  
  
"I'm the new Eddie." Said Xander. "Which I already said."  
  
"That's cool. Hopefully you'll do a lot less borrowing than the last Eddie." Said the girl. "Hey, I'm missing Ricky. Of course, if he's in that ugly green outfit--"  
  
"Last I heard he was in the blue strappy thing." Said Xander.  
  
"Oh, that's a good one." She said. "Can't miss that!"  
  
He watched her go, and turned to the Chinese guy. "This is a weird job." He said. "I just talked with a girl about another naked guy, and I think I was flirting about it."  
  
The Chinese guy grunted.  
  
**  
  
When he was finished working Xander went to the door. "All done, Claire!" He hollered. Ricky was standing on a table replacing a lightbulb, wearing only a thong. Xander made a face, looking away from him.  
  
There was a knock at the door. "Would you get that, Xander?" Asked Ricky.  
  
"Yeah, sure." Said Xander. The banging at the door got louder. "Keep your shirt on!" He yelled. Ricky chuckled.  
  
Xander marched up to the door and yanked it open. "What?" He said.  
  
Spike, leaning against the doorframe, grinned at him. "Boytoy. Never saw you as a stripper, myself, but whatever." He grinned. "Oh, public building." He said, stepping inside. "No invitation required."  
  
**  
  
A/N: Think very hard: Spike. Pre-chip. Post-Drusilla. This is JUST before he went after the Gem of Amarra. In short: RUN, XANDER, RUN! When I said this would get a tad AUish, what I meant is that I'm going. . .well. . .explore the wonderful relationship that Spike and Xander have.  
  
X: You're evil!  
  
S: Yes, I am. Now come here so I can kill you.  
  
X: Aaaah!!  
  
Yes, this will be hard for me. I rarely write evil Spike, preferring morally ambiguous Spike and good Spike. But I can write evil Spike. Just watch. And, yes, it will be fun, gosh darn it! And, yes, it will make you cry, gosh darn it! 


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
Xander backed up frantically. "Ricky, run!" He said. Ricky jumped down, capturing Spike's attention for second.  
  
"Oh good lord!" Said Spike, horrified by the sight of Ricky in a thong. "What kind of unholy perversion is this?!" He glanced at Xander. "Is this a gay club?" He asked suspiciously. "I mean, I expected the FEMALE variety of strippers."  
  
"No-no, it's a ladies' club." Said Xander. Spike frowned.  
  
"Where the ladies watch the blokes? And I thought I'd seen everything."  
  
Ricky wandered over, unafraid. "Hey, who's your boyfriend, Xander?" He asked.  
  
Spike grabbed Xander, throwing him across the room. "I thought you said this wasn't a gay bar!" He said.  
  
Ricky laughed, slapping Spike on the shoulder. "No, man, it's cool, just ragging on Xander, ya know?"  
  
Spike punched him, dropping him to the floor. "Who do I have to kill to get some liquor?" He asked. His tone of voice made it very clear that it was really the killing part he was after, not the liquor part.  
  
Claire walked in. "We're closed." She said in her toughest voice.  
  
"Run!" Yelled Xander, climbing to his feet. He grabbed the cross hanging around his neck, holding it out towards Spike.  
  
Spike casually reached over and grabbed the cross. His hand started to sizzle and smoke. "That works on vampires who are afraid of pain, Harris." He squeezed, and Xander let out a shrill yell. When Spike let go Xander did too, unable to hold on any longer. The cross fell to the floor. "Not on me." He added.  
  
Xander stared at the blonde vampire. This was the baddest vampire he'd ever seen--the one who had killed two Slayers. The one who had attacked Angelus when Xander had gone with Buffy and rescued Giles. The one who'd left Willow and himself trapped in the old factory together.  
  
The scariest vampire he knew, in point of fact.  
  
He tried to punch Spike, but Spike caught the blow. "I want a drink." He said calmly. He leaned closer. "Now!" He added.  
  
Claire was staring. "Okay." She said, walking behind the bar. She came up with a gun, not a drink, and Spike groaned. "I've had trouble with you boys before." She said. "You think you can just come in here?"  
  
She fired, and Xander jumped away, not sure of her aim. She fired a few more times, knocking Spike to the ground. She smiled, lowering the gun.  
  
Xander started running. "Get out of here!" He said.  
  
"He's dead." Said Claire contemptuously.  
  
Spike got up, in game face. "Yes, I am." He said.  
  
Claire gasped as Spike rose with fluid grace, his duster flaring out behind him. Spike approached her, his eyes glowing a sharp golden. He snatched the gun out of her hand, smashing it in his hands.  
  
She flinched back.  
  
He grinned, leering at her. "Nice try, sweetie." He said to her. She stared at his long fangs, frozen.  
  
Xander slammed into Spike from behind, knocking them both down. He punched Spike in the face a few times, slamming his fist down on Spike.  
  
Spike grabbed his throat, cutting off his air supply. Xander's eyes widened and he began scrabbling at Spike's chest, trying to get loose. Spike didn't let go, standing up and lifting Xander into the air. "You bloody git." He said, laughing.  
  
Then Ricky was there, holding a baseball bat, and he swung the bat at Spike, hard.  
  
Spike let go of Xander, rolling with the blow, but still getting knocked back. "Hey!" He growled. Ricky took another swing, but this time Spike caught the bat. "I'm gonna drain you lot dry!" He hissed.  
  
Xander rolled for the door. He'd tried to warn the others, but they weren't running. That was their problem. He'd given them fair warning.  
  
He opened the door only to come face to face with a man. No, not a man. Men didn't have coarse, thick, leathery skin and big horns on their head. Men didn't usually have red glowing eyes.  
  
And men NEVER made that growling noise.  
  
Although Xander had seen men look as mad as the demon standing in front of him. Not often, but he had seen it.  
  
"Where is he?" Demanded the demon, coming inside and pushing Xander aside.  
  
"Oh, bloody--" Spike started, and then the demon attacked him.  
  
Xander considered his odds for the briefest of seconds. Ricky was lying on the ground, moaning and holding his nose. Claire was behind the bar, trapped by the two fighting monsters between her and the door.  
  
Xander ran in, scooping up the baseball bat. He began waling on Spike, beating him around the head and shoulders with the bat.  
  
Spike casually disarmed Xander, taking the bat, and began using it on the demon, to lethal effect. "When will you lot stop hounding me?" He asked, beating the demon to the ground. "When will you just learn to leave me be?" He demanded, grabbing the demons horns and snapping its neck.  
  
Xander was already dragging Claire and Ricky back through the swinging doors into the kitchen. The Chinese guy was already gone, proving smarter than the others.  
  
Xander was breathing heavily, hyperventilating. Spike was here, had just killed a demon, and would probably want to finish it off with a midnight snack. Things could not possibly be worse.  
  
"What-what?" Stuttered Claire.  
  
"Is there a house here? Nearer than your house?" Xander asked Ricky.  
  
"Across the street is Claire's place." Said Ricky blankly. "Did you see his face?"  
  
"I've seen Spike's face!" Said Xander, pushing them. That snapped Claire out of it.  
  
"Spike? You know him!" She said, realization flooding her. "This is your fault!"  
  
There was a crash, and Spike was in the kitchen with them. "Oh, please." Said Spike. "Like I'd take the time to track Harris down? He's small potatoes."  
  
Xander whirled, his mind racing. They were trapped with the most dangerous vampire on earth.  
  
"Why was that demon after you?" He blurted.  
  
Spike was holding a bottle in one hand. Claire made a choking noise as he took a long draw from the bottle. "Little matter of debt." Said Spike. "I owe them a few. Maybe more than a few." He took another drink. "Say, you aren't here with the Slayer, are you?" There was a hopeful edge to his voice.  
  
"Uh, yeah. She's outside."  
  
"Cool!" Said Spike. "And now I have the hostages!"  
  
Xander hesitated. "I was lying." He admitted.  
  
"I know." Said Spike, swaggering closer. "I'd know if the Slayer was within a mile of me. Vampire thing. Who's your little friend?" He sneered at Claire. "Kinda cute, really."  
  
"What's the matter, girlfriend run off on you again?" Asked Xander.  
  
Spike snarled and charged him. He got his hands on Xander's throat, gripping him. "You flaming little git!" He snarled, not letting go. "I'll kill you!"  
  
Xander gagged, the powerful fingers around his throat feeling like iron bands, squeezing inexorably closed, cutting off his air.  
  
The doors swung open again, and two more demons came in. "Stinking Fyarls!" Snapped Spike, letting go of Xander. "Never give me a moment's peace."  
  
Xander grabbed Spike's belt, not letting go as Spike tried to run away. Hampered by the human, Spike was stuck there until he kicked Xander off. That gave the Fyarls plenty of time to cross the floor and grab Spike.  
  
Xander thought about it quickly as the demons pummeled Spike. "This could be a good thing." He said.  
  
Another Fyarl strode in. "Kill the humans." He roared in an atrocious accent. "I want no witnesses."  
  
"Or this could be a bad thing." Xander admitted.  
  
"Hey, monkey-boy!" Said Spike, inbetween blows from the Fyarls. "I know I was about to kill you, but the enemy of my--ow!"  
  
The Fyarls were on top of Spike, beating him down. Xander did the mental arithmetic fairly quickly, considering that arithmetic was his worst subject.  
  
He hurled himself on top of one Fyarl, holding the horns and kicking at its head. His feeble kicks managed to make it look up from Spike, surprised.  
  
Claire was also fairly good at this sort of arithmetic. She grabbed a plate and threw it. It hit Xander in the back, knocking him off the Fyarl. He landed on top of Spike with a grunt.  
  
Her arithmetic was good, but her aim was bad.  
  
Spike pushed Xander away, using the momentum to slide himself back across the floor, away from the demons. "Thanks, monkey-boy!" He said, rolling to his feet and making for the door.  
  
The demon at the door stopped him, growling and getting ready to fight him. Spike stopped. "Three of you buggers!" He said.  
  
"Spike!" Squeaked Xander.  
  
"Shut up!" Scowled Spike.  
  
"If we help, you've got to promise not to eat us!" Said Xander. Spike turned, grabbing the Fyarl who was trying to sneak up behind him, slamming a boot into his crotch. The Fyarl fell over backwards.  
  
"Not to eat you? Could you even trust my promise?" Sneered Spike.  
  
"Er, no." Said Xander. "But I'll take it!" He added quickly as the other Fyarl scooped him up, holding him over his head.  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Sodding pathetic bugger." He said.  
  
Then he attacked the Fyarl at the door. The demon holding Xander threw him at Spike, a large, overhand throw. Xander kicked off the Fyarls shoulder, changing his course, heading right at the Fyarl in the door. The impact knocked them both back through the doors, with Xander ending up on top of the Fyarl.  
  
He started raining ineffective punches on the Fyarl, who bashed him in the head with one hand, sending him spinning across the floor seeing stars.  
  
"Oh, oh." Said Xander, staring at the Fyarl, who stood up to loom over him.  
  
Xander reached back, encountering a chair behind him. He whipped it around, holding it between them in lion trainer fashion. The smoothness of the move was hampered by the little wobble in his step.  
  
"Pathetic." Said the demon. "What do you do when you're in real trouble?"  
  
"I yell help, and my best friend, the Slayer, whups you--"  
  
The Fyarl didn't really want to hear this, and grabbed the chair, smashing it against his forehead, sending chunks of wood flying around the room.  
  
"Now, let's see if we can't make this interesting." Growled the Fyarl. Xander backed away quickly, still a little light-headed.  
  
There was a howl of pain from the kitchen, and Xander flinched. The Fyarl chuckled. "Your little friends, they crumple from the pain. I wonder how loud you will scream?"  
  
A body fell through the swinging doors. It was a Fyarl demon, and the Fyarl still standing glanced to Xander, then back to the body.  
  
"I wonder how loud you'll scream." Said Xander.  
  
Spike swaggered out of the kitchen, green demon blood all over his face and spattered over his shirt. "You think you can just hunt down William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers?" He asked coldly.  
  
As he advanced he grabbed a surprised Xander. "Sorry, Harris, but I'm a liar." He said, grabbing Xander by the hair and preparing to bite into him.  
  
"There's more outside!" Said Xander.  
  
Spike hesitated.  
  
"You let me live, we'll help you." Said Xander.  
  
"Aw, cripes." Muttered Spike. "Can't believe I'm doing this." He pushed Xander away from him, hard. "All right, let's do this all together, then." He advanced on the Fyarl.  
  
"There's nobody else outside!" Said the Fyarl, incensed.  
  
Spike glanced back, but Xander was already running away with Claire and Ricky, out the front door. He closed his eyes and counted to three. "Unbelievable! Lying's my gig, you bloody thieves!"  
  
Then he attacked the Fyarl. 


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
Xander opened the door, pushing Claire and Ricky through as fast as he could, glancing back over his shoulder. He couldn't see anybody, but he knew that Spike was still out there, somewhere. He didn't think a lone Fyarl would be a match against Spike.  
  
Not with his luck.  
  
The other two were pressing themselves against the walls. "We've got to get out of here." Hiccoughed Ricky. His eyes were wide.  
  
"No!" Said Xander. "He can't come in your home without an invitation." Unless, he thought, Spike got an invitation from the landlord.  
  
Unpleasant thoughts.  
  
He crossed to the couch and pulled out his bag, opening it. He pulled the clothes out in a bundle, which was easy since they weren't folded, just all jumbled into a great pick wad. He tossed the wad of clothes aside, onto the floor, not caring at the moment that they were getting grimy.  
  
Underneath them lay a stake, a bottle of holy water, and a folding pistol- sized crossbow that was in pieces. Ricky and Claire stared as Xander began assembling the crossbow quickly, his hands a blue of professional motion.  
  
He hesitated as he neared the end. The pseudo soldier memories were fading, but he needed them. They were important. He needed them.  
  
He flipped it into ready mode and pulled back the wire, securing it. He loaded a wooden bolt into it quickly, raising it. The weight was unfamiliar. A month ago it had been very familiar.  
  
He couldn't lose the memories. Not yet.  
  
"Stay in the apartment!" He said. "Vampires can't come inside without an invitation." He stuffed the stake into his waistband, wincing when he stabbed his own leg. The bottle of holy water he tucked into his shirt pocket.  
  
"You're some kind of holy warrior." Said Ricky, his voice awed. For a second the praise made Xander feel incredibly good, and he could feel his chest swell. Then he remembered Spike was still out there, and he began hyperventilating.  
  
"So you know this Spike." Reasoned Claire nervously.  
  
"He's tried to kill me before." Replied Xander. He glanced at the others. "He's dangerous. Very, very dangerous."  
  
"Whelp!" Said Spike, stepping up to the doorway.  
  
"Aah!" Xander pointed the crossbow at Spike and fired. Spike grabbed the bolt in front of his chest, stopping it in mid-air. Xander stared.  
  
"Nice try." Said Spike, looking at the bolt. "But it would have missed by heart by almost a foot."  
  
Xander reloaded quickly. "You, you get out of here!" He said. He wished he had his cross still. Even if Spike didn't seem to be bothered by third degree burns. Xander pulled out the bottle of holy water. "Unless you want to take a napalm bath!"  
  
Spike chuckled, backing up. "You think you can get rid of me? You so much as twitch a muscle out of this flat I'll be there, watching you. I've got eternity to get you. You think you're safe?" He shifted into game face. "Like to see you stay safe when I set your house on fire."  
  
Xander pointed the crossbow at him. "Get lost!" He snarled.  
  
Spike shook his head. "You think you know evil? I'm here, and I'm going to kill you."  
  
Xander didn't waste his shot. The soldier part of him knew he needed to save it for when Spike wasn't looking, for when he could make it count. He waited, watching Spike.  
  
Spike grinned, and left.  
  
Xander knew he'd be back. "All right!" Said Xander. "We're going to do this, and we're going to do it right! Claire!" He handed her the pistol crossbow, and all the bolts he had for it. "You know how to shoot, right? Aim for the heart." He left the stake where it was. Without Slayer strength, a stake could be awfully hard to get all the way into a vampire chest.  
  
Holy water could usually do the trick, anyway.  
  
A Fyarl stepped to the door. "The humans are here, boss!" He said. Xander tensed, whirling, the stake coming up. A man stepped into the room.  
  
"Relax, demon hunter." He said. "I'm just a human." He glanced back at the Fyarl. "Go join the others." He said. The Fyarl trotted off.  
  
"Just a human?" Asked Xander. Claire and Ricky cowered back.  
  
"Er, no." Said the man. "My name is Jean-Luc Gissard. I'm what you might call a wizard."  
  
"A wizard, eh?" Asked Xander.  
  
"I'm hunting a vampire named Spike." Said Gissard. "A matter of a debt, you see."  
  
Xander relaxed. "You're the one hunting Spike?" He lowered the stake. "Thank god! We'll help you any way we can."  
  
"Great!" Said the wizard. "He was chasing you, earlier. Could you play bait?"  
  
Xander nodded. "Easily." He said. "What are you going to do?"  
  
The wizard grinned. "I'm going to make him pay for ever daring to mess with Gissard!"  
  
"Uh, sure. Freaky third person aside, what do I do?"  
  
"Just walk back to your club." Said Gissard. "I have three Fyarl's waiting there. I'll instruct them to grab him, and not harm you. Take your weapons--he'll see it as a challenge, I think."  
  
Xander nodded. "And then, magic." He took a deep breath, summoning his courage. "I can do the bait thing." He agreed.  
  
**  
  
Xander set out. He had the crossbow, a makeshift cross, and the bottle of holy water.  
  
He still felt naked.  
  
"All right, Spike, let's do this!" He yelled. "You and me! The good fight!"  
  
"Good fight!" Gurgled Spike. "Oh, that's rich!" He was in the shadows near Xander. "How about I just eat you?"  
  
Xander ran as fast and as hard as he could. He could hear the vampire behind him, but he didn't slow down a bit. He ran harder. Faster.  
  
And then there was a great rush of air, and Spike was on top of him, pressing him to the pavement.  
  
And, boom, Spike was in the air. Being held there by huge tan demons with huge horns, growling.  
  
"Yes!" Said Xander.  
  
Gissard approached. "You dare to steal my manuscripts!" He growled at Spike. "Unholy creature! The gem you seek shall not be yours!"  
  
"Bugger off!" Said Spike, annoyed. "You owed me, mate, you can't deny you owed me!"  
  
The wizard began chanting, and Spike began to panic. "No!" He screamed. "I didn't mean it! Come on, mate! This isn't--no!!"  
  
Spike writhed, and the Fyarl's dropped him. "What did you do to him?" Asked Xander.  
  
"I bound him to me." Said Gissard. "Made him a minion, unable to resist my will, force to obey my every order. Spike, hit yourself."  
  
Spike punched himself solidly in the jaw, dropping himself to the ground.  
  
"Cool!" Said Xander.  
  
Gissard glanced at him. "You're awfully trusting."  
  
"What?" Said Xander.  
  
"You trusted a warlock with no cause." Gissard sighed, and started chanting again. "Now, Xander." He said kindly. "Hit yourself."  
  
As Xander's fist shot towards his own jaw, he realized that he HAD been a little too trusting. 


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
As Xander slowly swam back into consciousness he was vaguely aware of Ricky and Claire. And Spike.  
  
Spike.  
  
He jumped to his feet, trying to escape the Spike-shaped blur. He let out a vaguely unmanly shriek. "Pipe down!" Growled Spike. "You got us all into it, didn't you, you bloody burk!"  
  
Xander blinked away the fuzziness, trying desperately to focus. There was Spike, wearing some kind of leash. Hm. And this funny feeling on his neck was--  
  
"AAAA!!" Screamed Xander, grabbing his own collar.  
  
"Be quiet." Said Gissard sharply, and Xander's mouth clamped shut.  
  
Gissard was behind him, he realized. The wizard slowly circled him, eyeing him closely. "You are strong." Said Gissard. "That's good. I have need of strong human slaves, to augment my demon army. Soon we will crush the Slayer, and the world! With William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers, at my side, none will dare oppose me!"  
  
Spike sniffed. "You still owe me ten bob, mate." He said.  
  
Gissard shook his hand. "Don't ruin the moment!" He complained, and stalked off.  
  
"Why don't we escape?" Asked Xander, looking around.  
  
"He's got us well and truly spelled." Said Spike. "You great git!"  
  
Xander shrugged. "Better slaved by him than drained by you, right?"  
  
Spike glared at Xander. "You pillock." He muttered.  
  
"You, you big ninny!" Said Xander.  
  
"And you cuss like a girl!" Sneered Spike.  
  
"What's that matter, girlfriend run off again? Poor Spike!" Sneered Xander, clearly enjoying himself for the moment. He glanced at Ricky, who was still wearing only a thong, cowering and quivering. He glanced to Claire, who appeared to be in shock. "How do we get out of this?" He asked.  
  
Spike rolled his eyes. "Your lot'll be no help. The spell is keyed to Gissard's voice. Any order he gives us, we have to obey."  
  
"What orders has he given?"  
  
"He told me not to touch him." Said Spike. "And he told us all not to try to run off."  
  
Xander thought about it. "Okay, I have a plan. . ."  
  
**  
  
Gissard entered the room. "Now, are we ready to go?" He asked. He glanced around the room. "All right, let's go!" He said cheerfully.  
  
Xander glanced to Spike, who shifted into game face. "All right." Said the blonde vampire. He seemed to grow an inch or two as he grinned evilly, displaying his fangs. "Let's do this."  
  
"You can't touch me!" Said Gissard happily, moving closer to Spike. "If I were to tell you to stake yourself, you would in a second! In fact--"  
  
Xander stepped behind Gissard and wrapped both hands around the wizard's mouth, cutting off his words. "Get him!" He yelled. Ricky remained cowering, but Claire sprang forward, slamming a fist into Gissard's stomach. Gissard started biting at Xander's hands, trying to get free, and Xander pulled back hard, keeping the teeth at bay.  
  
Gissard tried to shake him off, but Spike was grinning now. "Come on, half nelson! Kill the bloody ponce!" He yelled.  
  
"I don't know how!" Said Xander. Spike rolled his eyes, shifting back to human face. "Claire!" Said Xander desperately.  
  
She grabbed hold of Gissard, throwing him expertly into a half-nelson and cutting off his air supply, yanking him out of Xander's arms. Xander panted for breath, relaxing, while the wizard struggled.  
  
"We can't kill him." Xander told Claire as Gissard's struggles began to lessen. "He's human."  
  
"You can't." Said Spike. "Soon as his magic wears off, I can." He grinned. "And that's gonna be fun."  
  
"Spike, just. . ." Xander trailed off.  
  
"Shut it, monkey-boy." Said Spike. Xander's mouth clapped shut. "I'll kill him. Better yet, Claire, just keep the pressure on. Kill him."  
  
Claire's eyes widened, but she didn't let go after Gissard slumped limply in her arms.  
  
"Let him go!" Said Xander. Claire dropped him.  
  
"Oh, kill him!" Said Spike. Claire reached for him. Spike and Xander looked at each other, understanding dawning in their eyes.  
  
"Don't bite anybody!" Yelled Xander.  
  
"Hit yourself!" Said Spike. Xander punched himself in the jaw again, falling backwards to the ground. "Yes!" Whooped Spike, throwing his hands in the air.  
  
"Don't tell me to hit myself." Said Xander weakly.  
  
"Tell me I can bite Gissard." Countered Spike.  
  
"Bite Gissard." Said Xander. "No! Don't bite Gissard!"  
  
"Tell me. . ." Spike trailed off, frowning, trying to think of the next move. Xander grinned. "Blast it!" Said Spike. "I hate Mexican standoffs!"  
  
Xander's grin faded, and he glanced at Gissard. "Where are his Fyarl demons?" He asked.  
  
"He conjured them away." Said Spike. "Figured we were all the protection he needed now. Ha!"  
  
Ricky burst out bawling. "This is awful! I'm leaving!" He stormed off, and Spike snorted.  
  
"Leave it to the gay guy to run away. Anybody else?"  
  
Claire blinked. "This is. . .horrible! Ricky's one of my last dancers! If he tells the others. . ."  
  
**  
  
Eight hours later, Spike and Xander sat over Gissard, who was bound and gagged on Claire's kitchen floor. They were both staring at the other, trying to think of the perfect command.  
  
Claire stormed in, grabbed a few mugs, and stormed back out.  
  
"I command you to stake yourself!" Said Xander.  
  
"I command you to command me not to stake myself, and I command you not to command me to stake myself!"  
  
"Don't stake yourself! I command you to take that command back!"  
  
"I take that command back, but I command you to take that command back!"  
  
"Argh! I take it back!"  
  
They sat there stewing, occasionally glancing at Gissard.  
  
Claire stalked back in. "I can't believe this!" She snapped. "All my dancers are gone, just like that!"  
  
Xander glanced at Claire. "Is that bad?"  
  
"Are you kidding?" She asked. "I have a full house of screaming women! They could tear the place down!" Her eyes narrowed. "Say. . ."  
  
Xander's eyes widened. "No!" He said. "No, no, no! Let me emphasize again, no! A world of no!"  
  
Spike grinned. "Alright. Xander, dance for the nice ladies."  
  
Xander's eyes narrowed. "Spike, you dance for the nice ladies!"  
  
"And neither of you tell the other to take it back or not to do it!" Snapped Claire. They both opened their mouth to do just that, and frantically tried to speak, only to find themselves unable. They both glared at her. "Costumes in the changing room." She said unrepentantly.  
  
**  
  
Xander swayed and shook his all-but-unclad rear end. "Oh my god." He said, staring at the audience.  
  
Spike, beside him, similarly unclad, moaned. "I dated a woman who enjoyed literally sucking the life out of me through my veins. I was never scared. This...even if I could, I wouldn't dare run away. They are evil. More evil than me."  
  
The audience was like a living thing, pulsating closer and closer, drooling, salivating, and staring. Xander whimpered.  
  
Spike groaned, and glanced at Xander. "You can never speak of this. That's one of these blasted orders! There will be no speaking of this!"  
  
Xander glanced at Spike and immediately looked away, his eyes closed. "That goes for you double!" He said.  
  
"Take it off!" Somebody in the audience screamed. "Take it all off!"  
  
**  
  
Spike and Xander sat down, staring at Gissard. They were both silent and somber. There were tracks down Xander's cheeks where he'd been crying.  
  
Gissard stared at them both uncertainly.  
  
"I want you to take him." Said Xander to Spike. "Carry him out of here, and start driving. Don't stop till you're very, very far away. And then do what you want."  
  
"Right!" Said Spike.  
  
"And don't come back." Added Xander.  
  
"This spell will wear off!" Said Spike. "And then you know I'll be back."  
  
"It will wear off?" Said Xander. "I hope it'll wear off." He sighed. "When you get back, the Slayer will be here."  
  
Spike grinned. "Not for too long after I get back." He said, hoisting Gissard up over his shoulder.  
  
"Hey." Said Claire, entering the kitchen. "Wild crowd. Uh, you okay?" Xander looked up, and was surprised to see concern on her face.  
  
"You fed us to the wolves!" He said sharply.  
  
"I had to." She said. "To save my club." She sat down beside him. "How much did you get in tips?" She asked.  
  
He shrugged. "I left it...on my costume." He shuddered.  
  
She nodded, moving over to the pile of cloth he'd dropped in the corner. She pulled out the pile of bills and began shuffling and ordering it. When she was done she handed it to him. "There you go. About eight hundred and fifty dollars."  
  
His eyes bugged out, and he stared at the pile of bills. "There's not that many!" He said.  
  
"They're mostly fifties." She said with a shrug. "This is a pretty high- class joint."  
  
She watched as he counted the bills again, his eyes bugged out. "That's enough to get my car fixed." He said.  
  
"Off on your road trip, huh?" She asked. He hesitated.  
  
"I guess so, yeah." He said.  
  
"I know it's kind of weird me asking, since I sort of forced you, but would you like to stay and dance? I mean, you can make good money."  
  
"And what if I don't have a cocaine habit to feed, like Ricky?" Asked Xander.  
  
She shrugged. "Lots of my dancers have pretty good apartments. I mean, you don't have to. It's just...well, I'd like your help."  
  
"How am I helping, dancing?" He asked.  
  
"Not with that." She said, sitting down. "You...you know all about the things that go bump in the dark. If you don't want to be a dancer, how about a bouncer?"  
  
"A bouncer?"  
  
"Yeah. Only, you bounce vampires, not trouble-makers."  
  
"Oh." He said. He narrowed his eyes. "Well, uh, okay, but two things. First, you never, ever, make me do anything like that again. I mean, that wasn't nice."  
  
"Sorry." She said.  
  
"Secondly, we put up crosses, everywhere."  
  
"I don't think that'll go over well with the patrons!" Laughed Claire.  
  
"We can hide them." Said Xander. "Under plants, drapes, whatever. And, uh, okay. I'll stay. But not as a dancer! No dancing for Xander!" He shook his head. "I'll just...wash dishes." He shuddered.  
  
"Okay." Said Claire, smiling.  
  
"Hey, third condition." Said Xander, squinting at her.  
  
"Third condition?" She said nervously.  
  
"New automatic dishwasher." He said, nodding. "The one you have just doesn't work at all."  
  
She laughed. "I can handle that." She said. "No problem."  
  


* * *

  
Finis  
  
**  
  
A/N: What, you expected more? Sorry. 


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
Xander looked around the strip club, doing a quick mental search down his checklist. Naked guys. Check and shudder. Hordes of women screaming and drooling and being very scary. Check and shudder. Claire by the bar. Check, no shudder.  
  
All was right, then.  
  
A female walked through the door, not showing a bit of concern. The girl trying to follow her suddenly reared back from the door, her face twisting in pain, and Xander got that feeling again.  
  
His gut twisted with fear, and he advanced on the door. I can do this, he told himself.  
  
"Do we have a problem?" He asked.  
  
"No problem." Said the girl, stepping back from the door and looking around in surprise.  
  
"Crosses." Said Xander helpfully, putting a hand on the curtains hanging beside the open door. "They keep crosses beside the doors."  
  
"Sickos!" She hissed.  
  
Xander pulled the stake out from under his shirt and lunged, slamming into her chest. She gave a yelp, surprised, and looked down.  
  
It was in, but not far enough. His heart fell. Buffy made that look so easy, with her Slayer strength! But then, with her strength, pounding a not-too-sharp peg into somebody's breastbone WAS easy, wasn't it?  
  
"What—" Before she could get made, and just as she started to vamp out, he threw himself at her, lunging, hoping to drive the stake in. With unnatural speed she dodged, letting him fall to the ground.  
  
And then she ran off, as he landed on the ground with bruising force, shaken enough by his attempt to stake her that she didn't even try for him.  
  
He was left coughing and wiping dust out of his eyes, checking around to make sure that he hadn't been caught.  
  
Oh, good. Nobody.  
  
He staggered to his feet and went back into the club. He went straight to the bar, signaling Claire, and she poured him a soda.  
  
"Vampire?" She mouthed silently at him, and he nodded, sipping soda into his mouth and swirling it around, getting the taste of the dirt of the street outside out of his mouth.  
  
"Just doesn't get any better than this." He said. He glanced around at the girls at the bar. "You know, I think they've stopped hitting on me."  
  
Claire grinned. "Well, they mostly think you're gay."  
  
Xander coughed. "Gay?" He shuddered, glancing away from the stage. "Oh, my heart."  
  
"Yeah." She said. "But you're a guy in a place where guys get naked."  
  
He shrugged. "Whatever helps them rationalize. I'll be in the kitchen."  
  
He pushed through the throng of women, wondering if perhaps he should get gone. Claire could stay safe, now, with what she knew. And the place was VERY vampire un-friendly.  
  
He could just go. Get on, see the world.  
  
Inertia. It was one of Willow's big fancy words. Stuff that was moving, stayed moving, till somebody stopped it. Stuff that didn't move...  
  
And his heart was still pounding a mile a minute. He'd just faced a vampire, all by himself. No friends for backup, no Buffy.  
  
Hrmph.  
  
"Hey, Kam!" He said, greeting the Chinese guy huddled over his stove. The Chinese guy glared at him.  
  
When guys went to see a stripper, they drank. When girls went, they ate. And they expected good food. This surprised Xander to no end. Who could eat while watching a show that was supposed to turn them on?  
  
But, whatever. Not his issue.  
  
He turned to the dishes, where Lee, a somewhat nerdy-looking young girl with blonde hair, was washing them. "You keeping up?" He asked Lee, knowing what a task that was.  
  
"Yeah, just fine." She said, in a tone of voice that let him know what she thought of getting stuck washing dishes.  
  
He grinned. He couldn't help it, her tone of voice was like something Cordelia would have shot off. And it brought back memories of Cordelia, with the same attitude. The same 'this is beneath me' look in her eyes as she did whatever she was doing.  
  
"Keep it up, then." He said. He glanced at the new automatic dishwasher. "What's wrong with it now?"  
  
"Dunno." She said. "It nearly exploded."  
  
He sighed. That meant he'd have to waste all day tomorrow trying to fix it. That would be quite the chore. "I'll have it fixed by tomorrow night." He promised.  
  
And so here he was, overstaying his welcome. Anybody could do what he did, and probably better. Somebody else would probably have staked the vampire. And for less money. Claire was probably just keeping him around because he'd saved her life.  
  
He was the Zeppo, again.  
  
He left Lee in the kitchen and headed back into the club. There he could see a naked dancer with bits of red cloth hanging off him doing something, and he quickly averted his eyes.  
  
"Hey." Said a voice, and he turned to see Jenny, who he had learned was more or less a regular. She brushed her curly brown hair out of her eyes. "What'cha drinking?"  
  
"Coke." He replied, lifting the glass. "I'm on the job."  
  
She nodded seriously. "Cool." She said. She glanced at the stage. "It takes a special kind of man to work in a girly club like this." She said.  
  
His face flushed. "Ah, sure." He said, not bothering to deny it. If he had to argue about his sexuality, was it really worth it? Just saying 'I am not gay' was like screaming 'I am so gay!' So he'd be like Angel, just be stoic and manly.  
  
Manly. Right.  
  
Jenny giggled, sipping her drink. "Almost closing time. You the one throws the girls out?"  
  
He groaned inwardly. Why did she always come here and get drunk? "No, Claire does that." He said.  
  
She nodded. "How naughty do I have to be before you throw me out?" She asked, trying for mischievous, ending up with drunk.  
  
"A lot more than you can handle." He said, steering her towards the bar. "You wanna talk about it?"  
  
She pouted. "Oh, yeah, you play bartender."  
  
Xander stepped behind the bar with Claire. "Sure, okay. Here's my bartender face." He assumed a sympathetic air, knowing she would laugh. She did.  
  
At least that was one skill that would never leave. He knew people didn't laugh with him, they laughed at him. And it had hurt for a while. But he was good at the clowning. Good at making people forget their troubles for a bare fraction of a second.  
  
"Okay." She said. "Maybe I just like getting drunk while watching men's butts."  
  
Xander absorbed that. "Maybe you're running from something." He observed. She scowled.  
  
"What's there to run from?" She asked. "Nothing. A whole lot of nothing. Empty house, empty life." She downed another long gulp of her drink.  
  
Xander sighed. "You're just making it worse, you know." He said. "You're taking the empty life and throwing it away, when you could just fill it up. Fill it up to the brim. You think about that, a minute."  
  
"Fill it up?" She asked curiously. "You're taking the metaphor a bit far."  
  
He shook his head. "I'm cutting you off." He said.  
  
Claire touched his arm. "You're no good at the joking, Xander, so cut it out." She said, passing Jenny a bottle. Xander's mouth dropped open, but then he shut it, glowering at Claire.  
  
"We'll talk about this later." Said Claire, her face hard.  
  
He nodded. "That we surely will."  
  
**  
  
After the club was closed, and everybody except Lee (still catching up) was gone, Xander finally was able to corner Claire. He found her in the front room, with Jenny passed out on the floor beside her.  
  
"What is this, with Jenny?" He asked. "You always let her drink way more than she should! Is money more important to you than your customers well- being?"  
  
"Her husband and son were killed in an accident a couple months back." Replied Claire harshly. "What do you want me to do, send her back to an empty house with enough clarity of mind to remember that other people used to live there? Don't judge the ways other people use to forget."  
  
Xander frowned, but at that point they were interrupted by Lee, making her escape. "I finished the dishes." She reported. "And--wow!"  
  
Xander didn't turn. He knew what was behind him. "Bobby, go get some clothes on." He said with a sigh.  
  
Claire chuckled. "See, I told you you'd get used to naked guys." He glared back at her.  
  
Lee's mouth was moving, but no sound came out. Xander moved, blocking her view of Bobby. "Bobby, I mean it!" He said.  
  
Bobby fell on the floor beside him, lying still. There was blood on this throat.  
  
Xander knew who it was without turning. The stake that was stuck in Bobby's back gave it away.  
  
"You hurt me." Hissed the female vampire he'd stabbed before.  
  
"Aa!" He said, jumping forward, his nerves shot. Vampires behind him always did that to him.  
  
He whirled, facing her. She was grinning, in game face. "Naughty." She whispered, licking her lips.  
  
Claire reached behind the bar and came up with a crossbow, firing. As the vampire exploded to dust she glanced to Lee, who was trembling. "Watch her!" Said Claire, moving to Bobby. "Oh, crap." She said, emotional. "Not another one!"  
  
Xander trembled. How many were dead now, because of him? Well, add one more to the list. Bobby. Stripper.  
  
Lee turned to him, grabbing him with strength he hadn't realized she had, clutching him, trying to hide her eyes.  
  
Xander sighed, putting one hand around her shoulders, watching Claire drag Bobby outside. 


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I own nothing  
  
Xander assembled the hand-held crossbow slowly, making an effort not to use his soldier memories. This wasn't about the soldier memories. It was about making new memories. About being able to do this, to do this fast. To be a warrior. To be—  
  
His thumb caught the bow-string, pulling it taut and snapping the crosspiece against his knuckles. He let out a shriek that was vaguely unmanly, and dropped the entire assembly, which hit the floor and exploded, sending little bits all over the floor.  
  
To be a big klutz, apparently.  
  
He sighed and began picking them up, glaring at the dishwasher, which was making a humming noise. He was sure it wasn't supposed to hum, but lacking amazing mechanical powers, a skill that being a soldier for one night hadn't given him, he wasn't sure how to stop it.  
  
He had, however, managed to make it run again, after only eight hours of bruising his knuckles and cracking his shins on the nearest object.  
  
He looked down at his battered knuckles. He looked like he'd been in a fight. Which was ironic, because whenever he HAD been in a fight, the bruises had shown up in other places. His ribs, his head, ...  
  
Good memories.  
  
Claire was working outside, putting up more crosses, strategically arranged mirrors, and the occasional crossbow, loaded and ready for action.  
  
She was remarkably tough. Once he'd shown her what to do, she'd gone nuts, simply covering the place with wards and anti-vampire measures.  
  
Of course, if Spike ever returned, Xander knew that wouldn't help much. After all, Spike had grabbed the cross out of his hand. Xander had never seen a vampire do that before. He'd faced down vampWillow with a cross (or, well, Giles had, but Xander was there!) and she hadn't grabbed it.  
  
On the whole, Spike was a level above most vampires. Xander knew that.  
  
That's why he'd killed two Slayers.  
  
Xander glanced at Claire, who came in. "What should I do now?" He asked.  
  
"Just sit there." She advised. He tried to stand up, and couldn't.  
  
That was a good thing. Because as long as Claire could still give him orders, then he was in good shape.  
  
They'd established, so far, that nobody else could give them orders. Only those who had been under Gissard's spell. The four of them. And Ricky was gone, and Spike would be gone as long as the spell lasted.  
  
And Xander hoped very much it would last forever.  
  
He took a drink from the cup nearest him, and made a face. Water, eugh! He wanted chemical, sugary goodness, right about now.  
  
He could almost hear Willow and Buffy chanting in his ears, health consequences, healthy choices, blah blah blah blah... He tried to get up to go fetch one, but was still stuck, thanks to Claire's compulsion.  
  
Oops.  
  
He glanced at Kam, who glared back from over his hot stove, a feral grin on his face.  
  
Xander winced. No, no soda from him. He looked around, hoping that somehow a soda would miraculously appear in front of him. He contemplated yelling Buffy's name, since that usually got him out of any trouble he was in.  
  
But she wasn't here.  
  
He glared at the water. "I will have my revenge on you for this insult!" He promised the water, taking another drink.  
  
He gave Kam a goofy grin, and Kam responded with a snarl.  
  
He swallowed and went back to the crossbow. New memories. New skills. A warrior...  
  
*Snap!*  
  
He couldn't get off the stool, but he could let out a yelp that sounded like a thirteen year old girl.  
  
It was good to know your limitations.  
  
**  
  
Xander limped through the empty club. "Claire?" He called.  
  
"Yeah?" She said from behind him.  
  
"Yaah!" He jumped up into the air, which wasn't so very high at all. He came down breathing heavily, clutching his chest. "Don't do that!" He stuttered.  
  
"Sorry." She said unapologetically. "What?"  
  
"Whew! I was wondering about Kam."  
  
"What?" She asked impatiently. "That's it? Kam? He's a cook."  
  
Xander stuttered, but Claire went on by, and he let out a sigh. "Right, he's a cook. So silly of me."  
  
He went back to the kitchen. The dishes were clean, the dishwasher was running, the place was vampire-proof—he had nothing left to do, did he?  
  
He really needed to move on. See the world. At least the grand canyon. Wasn't there some purple mountain majesty out there for him to see? Hm.  
  
He heard a noise behind him and checked for a stake in his pocket. Nope. Waistband? Double nope.  
  
"Gee, I sure hope that's Lee!" He said cheerfully, turning around to come face to face with the girl, who was frowning at him.  
  
"Weirdo." She said, moving past him. "Payday already. God, I am so going to blow this weird joint!" She glanced back at him. "Hey, what?"  
  
Xander shook off the look of horror on his face. "Right, yeah, payday, great."  
  
She'd said she was going to blow the joint. And, right then, he'd remembered that he was supposed to put the green washer back into the dishwasher, on top of the funny bolt assembly in the middle of the engine.  
  
And, hmm. He hadn't, because there it was, right there.  
  
He groaned. That certainly explained the groaning and knocking noises. "Uh, want to give me a hand with the dishwasher?"  
  
"What? Ew, no way!" Said Lee. "I'm just here to book. Get my pay, and gone. Whoosh." She nodded enthusiastically.  
  
He tried to come up with a snappy rejoinder, but managed to finally say, "yeah, sure," in a vaguely insulted tone of voice.  
  
Then he grabbed the screwdriver and got back to work. "I just put this thing back together, Chewie!" He said under his breath.  
  
**  
  
Xander grimaced, clutching his forehead. Claire squinted at his forehead. "It doesn't look broken." She said skeptically.  
  
"Are you sure? It feels broken." He said, never letting go for a second.  
  
"Not broken." Said Claire definitively. "Just a little dented."  
  
"Oh, okay." He muttered. "And the overwhelming agony?"  
  
She glanced from the red welt on his forehead to the dishwasher. "That's your brain's way of telling you I'm going to kill you for blowing my dishwasher up." She said calmly.  
  
"Uh, I can fix it." He said quickly. "It's just the front axle thingy."  
  
"Do I need to get a professional down here?" Asked Claire.  
  
"No!" Said Xander. "This, I can do this. Fix dishwashers. Really! That is something I can do."  
  
"Where's Lee?" Asked Claire.  
  
"Did you pay her?" Asked Xander.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Whoosh." Said Xander. Off Claire's look he added, "Gone like the wind. She booked."  
  
"Oh." Said Claire, disappointed. "Now I'm down a dishwasher."  
  
"I can cover it till you get somebody." Said Xander. "I mean, considering I blew up your dishwasher, it's the least I can do."  
  
She gave him an odd look. "You know, most guys spend their time trying to stay out of the kitchen."  
  
He shrugged. "I'm just that kind of sensitive nineties guy, I guess." He said with a grin.  
  
She rolled her eyes. "I wish I could find reliable help for this place." She said, standing up and moving away. "Kam! Chicken tonight, I think."  
  
Kam nodded and made some odd muttering noises, glaring at Xander. Xander grinned nervously in return, sitting up and edging away from the cook. Kam glared some more, and Xander climbed to his feet, breaking away.  
  
Later that night, as he washed dishes, Xander realized that he could have done all this back in Sunnydale. And then he probably could have spent time with his friends.  
  
But wasn't this some kind of coming of age experience? Designed to make him a man? Or at least make him moderately less wimpy. Was that too much to ask for?  
  
Apparently it was. Jenny entered the kitchen, just slightly tipsy.  
  
Xander did some quick mental arithmetic. From her state of inebriation (ha! Take that, Wills! Big word! Big word!) he would guess the time to be about 9:30. He checked the clock. 10:15. Hm.  
  
"Get off work late?" He asked her.  
  
She blinked. "Uh, yes." She said. "How did you know that?"  
  
He shrugged. "Call it my amazing mutant ability." She was always tipsy before ten, and flat out drunk by eleven. Passed out drunk by midnight. And at closing time, one in the morning, she was still passed out, but awake enough that Claire would drag her off to her home.  
  
Her empty home.  
  
And what could Xander do about that? The big ol` Zeppo had run away from his own family. His big, loud, drunk, obnoxious family. He spent Christmas camped out under the stars to avoid his drunken family.  
  
What did he know about domestic bliss and missing your family so much you drowned your sorrows? About now he missed Will enough to drown his sorrows, true enough.  
  
Well, not quite true. About now he missed GILES enough to drown his sorrows.  
  
And how sad was that? Giles and he barely got on at the best of times! Giles barely tolerated him, he was sure.  
  
Back to Jenny.  
  
"Okay, it's your amazing mutant ability." She said, amused.  
  
"Darn tooting." He said, borrowing Will's favorite saying. For a moment he floundered, wanting to say something witty, wanting to change her life somehow. He came up with a total blank, and smiled his goofiest smile again, getting back to the dishes.  
  
"Don't you ever cut loose? Party?" She asked him.  
  
"No, not often." He admitted.  
  
She grinned. "You should."  
  
She was swaying slightly. Okay, maybe she was a little drunker than he had thought. "No, that's okay." He said. "It's almost eleven." And why would that mean anything to her? How would she know that vampires usually waited till later to show up?  
  
"Eleven?" She asked.  
  
"Rush hour here in the kitchen." He said, smiling.  
  
What a lame cover up. No wonder he wasn't a cool superhero like Buffy; if he had been, he would have blown it. Clearly.  
  
Claire entered the kitchen. "Hey, we have issues." She said.  
  
"What?" Said Xander. Was it a vampire already? He hated vampires.  
  
"No, one of the dancers has stage fright. Can you try to talk him down? Or, er, up."  
  
Hm. Too bad it wasn't a vampire. He would have loved a vampire attack about now.  
  
"Sure!" He said cheerfully.  
  
"Oo, can I help?" Asked Jenny.  
  
"Sorry, Jenn, honey, but no." Said Claire. Xander left, stripping off the horrible yellow gloves he wore to wash dishes as he did so.  
  
The stripper was blubbering, standing by the stage entrance wearing feathers. Lots of feathers, for the moment. "I can't do it, man, I can't do it!" He whimpered.  
  
"Hey." Said Xander. "I did it." Oh, and what a mental image that was. Memories and everything.  
  
The dancer looked at him, terror in his eyes. "I need money to get through college. I thought it would be easy money. But look at them! They're monsters!"  
  
Xander snuck a peek out, and had to agree. The one in the front row kept flinching back from the cross hung beneath the curtain between her and the stage. "Yep. Monsters." He agreed. "Just remember, they can look, but they can't touch."  
  
"Just the thought of their eyes on me!!" Whimpered the stripper.  
  
Xander sighed. "I'll be right back." He said.  
  
Now, how was he going to get that vampire out of the crowd? 


End file.
